


tsukishima kei, useless gay

by annoyingplant



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Burn, i dont plot lol, ish, yamaguchi is a wingman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-06-06 22:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15205175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annoyingplant/pseuds/annoyingplant
Summary: kei is a gay with a crush, nishinoya is painfully straight(?) and yamaguchi just wants to stop hearing about this





	1. hopeless

**Author's Note:**

> this title was just meant to be a placeholder but i like it so here

nishinoya played exceptionally well today.

it had only been a practice match, but nishinoya had gone all out. his toss was improving too. kei wonders how he finds the energy to work as hard as he does, to stay motivated all the time. he doesn’t like thinking about it, even though it’s clear as day; nishinoya keeps team morale up. it’s reassuring, knowing he’s there on court, but his rowdy and outgoing personality keeps the team unified outside of matches as well. it makes kei frown. 

 

when he closes his eyes, he sees nishinoya’s receive again. it’s the same receive he’s been struggling over and nishinoya does it perfectly, with such ease that it makes kei look like an imbecile for messing up.

when kei closes his eyes, he hears the clean smack of nishinoya’s receive, feels his palm on his back as kei switches back in. when kei closes his eyes, he sees nishinoya’s wide smile. 

 

 _thump, thump_ \- goes kei’s heart. like the little traitor it is. 

 

kei rubs the balls of his palms into his eyes in an effort to stop thinking about nishinoya’s smile and his mouth and his lips and -

 

fuck.

 

he takes a breath, takes two and opens his eyes again to stare at the blank ceiling above his bed.

kei’s always known he’s gay. even when he didn’t know what gay meant, he’d always been aware of his attraction to men. yamaguchi knows. of course he knows; there’s no way he wouldn’t, after being friends with kei through middle school and puberty. akiteru knows. he was the first person kei came out to. it was horrible and nerve-wracking, but akiteru told him it was obvious.

the first time kei fell in love he was thirteen and he stared at his middle school volleyball captain with the stupidest, softest gaze. he was thirteen when his captain got a girlfriend and he was thirteen when he hid under his blankets and sobbed as his heart ached.

kei’s never seen anyone love girls the way nishinoya does and that just makes it hurt more. there’s a pang in his chest every time nishinoya gushes about a pretty girl, every time he stares at shimizu or yachi.

 

nishinoya is straight. he is obviously, _painfully_ straight.

 

* * *

 

“and you know that stupid little smirk he does sometimes?” kei’s sitting on yamaguchi’s carpet floor, squeezing a juice packet so hard, yamaguchi keeps worriedly glancing at it. “it’s so--”

“you think it’s super hot, i know. you’ve only said so a _thousand_ times.” yamaguchi’s sitting in his desk chair, legs crossed as he spins around in it. his homework lays on his desk, unfinished, just as kei’s is on the ground. clearly, he expected studying together to go differently than it did.

“shut up, yamaguchi.” kei twirls his pen almost viciously, then stabs it at the blank page in front of him a couple times, for good measure. “he just does all these little things, like when he sticks out his tongue to receive. or when he wipes his face _with his shirt_. who does that?”

“everyone. literally the entire team does that.”

“that’s not my point and you know it,” kei says and kicks yamaguchi’s chair to send him spinning. “how did i ever, ever, in my entire sixteen years of being alive, develop a crush on this asshole.” 

“yeah, honestly.” yamaguchi, having finally stopped spinning in his chair, is holding the edge of his desk tight and trying to get his eyes to focus. “i thought you couldn’t stand him when we first joined.”

kei throws his hands up. his pen goes flying. “exactly! what happened between then and now that i look at him and think he’s the hottest, most attractive person i’ve ever looked at? i think i’m going crazy.”

“tsukki, don’t you talk to your brother about this? i’m sure he’d like to hear more about it than i do.”

kei looks offended.

“i mean! you talk about nishinoya all day at school already…” yamaguchi looks away, at his homework, then at the floor. “i think your brother would be happy to hear you’ve got a crush.”

 

“you know damn well he’d try to set me up,” kei says, brows pulled together tight in a frown. “with a straight guy.”

yamaguchi pouts, then slides off his chair to sit on the floor with kei. he glances at the page kei has pretty much ruined with his incessant pen-stabbing and cocks his head to the side, eyebrows up. “you don’t know for sure he’s straight.”

kei just stares at him, like he can’t believe yamaguchi really just said that. “have you _seen_ nishinoya,” he deadpans, “like. ever. or at all.”

“okay. okay, you’ve got a point.” yamaguchi looks concerned when kei tears out the ruined page of his notebook and balls it up. “maybe… he’s just gay in a really straight way. you know?”

 

* * *

 

“tsukishima! get over here!!”

kei turns to find about half of his teammates sitting on the stairs just outside the gym. they’re in a somewhat malformed circle and they’re all staring at him.

 

“what.”

 

hinata, with his stupid mop of orange hair that’s irritating to just look at, leans forward. “you’ve got big hands, right?”

 

“what--”

 

“of course tsukki does,” yamaguchi says, before kei can continue to ask what the fuck is going on. “he’s tall, he’s gotta.”

“shut up, yamaguchi.” kei sits. he picks the spot between yamaguchi and sugawara because that’s the spot furthest away from nishinoya and crosses his legs, brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance. “why do you want to know about the size of my hands.”

sugawara takes his wrist and pulls one of kei’s hands into the middle of them. it’s awkward, but sugawara doesn’t seem to notice or care at all. kei doesn’t like where this is going. “we were comparing sizes,” sugawara says, then, realizing the innuendo, “of hands. hand sizes.”

“ah, i see.” kei tilts his head and gives his voice the usual cocky, teasing lilt. “let me guess then… hinata’s the smallest? oh, and,” he fakes remembering something, but before he can make fun of hinata for his tiny hands nishinoya jumps forward, breaking the circle, to grab kei’s hand.

 

“tsukishima!” kei’s mind goes blank. “your hand’s huge, the heck!!” what the fuck.

is this karma? kei sees his life flash before his eyes. nishinoya presses his own palm against kei’s. he shouldn’t have made fun of hinata all those times. kei can hear his blood rushing in his ears. fuck, he must be burning red. nishinoya’s hand is so much _smaller_ than his own. fuck. fuck fuck. kei wonders what it’d be like to hold it, he wants to hold it so bad, wants to lace their fingers and--

 

“tsukki, come on..!” yamaguchi’s pulling his wrist now and kei realizes he spaced out entirely for a second. “we, uh, we gotta go, remember?” kei doesn’t remember, but he gets up anyways. if he wasn’t still recovering from the emotional shock of that moment, this would feel more like turning tail and running.

they leave the rest of the team behind and yamaguchi scoops up both their bags. they don’t talk until they’re in the main school building and safely, definitely out of earshot.

 

“tsukki, what _was_ that,” yamaguchi’s staring at him in disbelief.

“what the fuck.” kei’s staring at his hand in disbelief. he remembers how small nishinoya’s had been compared to his and flushes red all over again. the thumping in his chest almost hurts. “what the fuck.”

yamaguchi pushes kei’s bag into the hand he’s still staring at and groans in exasperation. “tsukki, you’re so fucking gay.”

“i know, what the fuck.” he finally, _finally_ drops his hand to his side and looks at yamaguchi. he looks exhausted, exactly like kei’d expect someone to look after they’d saved their friend from embarrassing himself in front of his entire team by telling a shitty lie. “but can you blame me? can you really, after what he did. he can’t just… take my hand like that. holy shit. nishinoya took my hand. i’m a lost cause. i’m fucking hopeless.” 

“-ly in love, yeah,” kei stares at yamaguchi, he could not have heard that right. yamaguchi makes a face, he acts like he’s spelling the most obvious thing out to kei. “hopelessly in love! you! with him!” 

what? no. impossible. kei doesn’t fall in love with straight guys, that’s ridiculous. he hasn’t since his first year in middle school, and he doesn’t plan on doing it now or anytime soon. he’s not up for getting hurt like that again. and, sure, he has a crush on nishinoya, but that’s just infatuation. it’s going to fade with time. he’s not _in love_ with him.

 

god. he hopes he’s not in love with him.


	2. (plural)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh sorry for the long wait, i got caught up in studying for exams and then also procrastinating... hopefully the next chapter will be finished sooner!
> 
> shoutout to my friend [eva](https://twitter.com/okedufs) for betaing

kei lays in bed that night and stares at his hand. he swears he can still feel the heft of nishinoya’s palm on his when he closes his eyes. he’s been jittery about it all day, in a tsukishima kei kind of way, which means he’s even more irritable than usual. it’s bad enough yamaguchi had to make up an excuse to keep kei from straight up humiliating himself in front of the team to the point where he’d have to change schools just to be able to live with himself again. but even now, hours later he can still hear yamaguchi’s words.

 

kei doesn’t fall in love with straight guys.

 

or anyone, for that matter. he’s a stone cold, independent bitch.

kei hasn’t been stone cold at all these last couple days. or a bitch. he might lose his reputation, after all the work he’s put into his image. and all because of some stupid little crush.

 

“woah, seriously?” nishinoya says from where he’s sitting on the edge of kei’s bed. “tsukishima, you have a crush on me?”

kei sputters, immediately sitting up, back straight as a board. fuck, wait, fuck. he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. he’s too caught up in trying to think of words to nullify his confession, he doesn’t stop to think what nishinoya is doing in his room in the first place.

“no, that’s not what i--” kei starts, only to be interrupted by nishinoya, who’s leaning almost uncomfortably close into his space now. he stares, brows pulled together tight, and pouts. kei looks away, stares at the wall and fixes his glasses.

 

nishinoya puts his hand in kei’s.

 

it’s small. it’s warm. like it was earlier that day and kei almost instinctively laces their fingers. he’s staring now, at their hands, sputtering and face beet red. he hadn’t meant to lace their fingers, he’s trying to unlace them but nishinoya is holding his hand firmly in place. he notices, barely, out of the corner of his eye that nishinoya is wearing his uniform. the bright orange makes him stand out even more against the drab of kei’s room and his gaze lingers just a moment too long on the big four splayed on nishinoya’s chest. it makes him fidget.

kei looks up, makes eye contact with nishinoya, finally. and that seems to make him smile, wide and warm, like he does every day during club. except this isn’t during club. it’s in kei’s room and it’s just for kei.

 

 _thump, thump_ \- goes kei’s heart, and he’s sure nishinoya can hear it too.

 

“okay, _maybe_ i have a crush on you,” kei admits slowly, but not without adding, “surprising, honestly, with how insufferable you can be,” though there’s no bite to his voice and nishinoya just laughs.

“that’s cute!”

cute. kei’s been called many things. pain in the ass, annoying, snarky asshole with attitude problems. he’s been called handsome, too, but never before cute. it’s because he isn’t. cute isn’t something that comes to mind when describing six foot tall jackass tsukishima kei. and yet, when nishinoya says it like that, so earnestly and with absolute conviction, it makes kei want to believe him.

 

it makes kei want to kiss him.

 

“don’t call me that,” kei says and opens his mouth to continue, but pauses. nishinoya’s hair is down now. kei swears it was up a second ago. maybe he ran his hands through it. kei would like to run his hands through it. would like to kiss nishinoya hard and muss up his stupid hairdo. he doesn’t do that. he also doesn’t remember what he’d wanted to say.

nishinoya tilts his head, confused, and says something else, but this time kei doesn’t hear. at first he thinks it’s because he’s too preoccupied with thinking about kissing him, but then nishinoya opens his mouth again, and out comes a high-pitched shrill sound. it doesn’t stop when nishinoya closes his mouth either and kei blinks, confused. he tries to say something, but he can’t hear himself speak over the noise.

 

he blinks again and nishinoya is gone from the side of his bed.

 

kei snoozes his alarm and the noise stops, finally. he just lays there, for a good minute, staring blankly, then rolls over in bed, pulls his pillow over his head and then his blanket too, for good measure. he’s going to combust, he’s sure of it, with how he’s burning up.

his alarm goes off again and kei lets it ring for a minute, almost physically unable to leave his bed, until his brother bangs on their shared wall and kei is forced to get up.

 

* * *

 

“tsukki--”

kei barely lets yamaguchi pick up the phone before he says, “yamaguchi. i’m not coming to morning practice today.”

“what, why?” yamaguchi sounds worried, almost like he’s the one in distress. “tsukki, are you okay?”

“no. i think i have to move to a different city. or, fuck, overseas rather.”

“tsukki?!”

 

“yamaguchi, he was in my _dream_ ,” kei sounds absolutely exasperated when he says this. he can see himself in the bathroom mirror, hair still damp from when he’d held his head under the tap. he looks every bit as worked up as he sounds.

“who-- wait, nishinoya?!”

kei furrows his brows. he can feel a headache budding. and he may be able to skip morning practice, but he’ll still have to go to school. and going to school means going to club, and going to club mean seeing nishinoya. oh, the woes of being a high school student. “yes, of course nishinoya. yamaguchi, i can’t show my face ever again.”

“you dreamt of nishinoya,” yamaguchi says and it feels like he’s just rubbing it in now. kei can almost hear his grin. how rude, kei came to him _burdened_ and hoping to talk about his _conflicted feelings_ with his _best friend_ , and here he is, being laughed at. “wait,” yamaguchi sounds less cocky for a second, ”what… kind of dream.”

“oh my god yamaguchi.”

“what!”

“yamaguchi, i did _not_ have a sex dream.”

 

“sorry, tsukki,” he sounds barely apologetic enough for kei to let it slide. only because he’s already razzled enough though. “so, um,” yamaguchi continues, “what did he do in your dream that was bad enough for you to skip practice?”

kei taps his fingers on the cool ceramic of the bathroom sink. “i don’t know. sat with me and held my hand, i guess.” he’s growing red again, kei can see it in the mirror, see it in his glasses fogging up. he wants to dunk his head under water once more. “called me cute.”

“cute!” yamaguchi echoes, and to kei it almost sounds like an insult with how much wonder he does.

kei rolls his eyes. he groans, rubbing his temple. he’s most certainly got a headache now. “shut up. whatever. just tell coach i’m feeling sick or something.”

“fine,” a pause, yamaguchi yawns. kei pieces together that he probably woke him up with his call. he’d feel bad about it, but that wouldn’t be very on brand of him. also yamaguchi deserves it for thinking he had a sex dream involving nishinoya. “but you better show up to class.” 

 

with that, kei hangs up. he holds his head under the tap again and holds his breath under the cold water. it’s unbelievable, really, how much he’s deviating from his normal can’t-be-bothered attitude, just because he caught some feelings. kei hates it, doesn’t like how much it clashes with how in control he usually is. he tsks at himself in the mirror and wipes his face dry. 

 

“good morning,” akiteru says from where he’s leaning on the wall of the hallway when kei opens the bathroom door.

“ah.” kei bows his head a little, “sorry i took so long.”

akiteru takes a couple steps forward so he’s standing in front of kei now. he has to look up to make eye contact and kei lifts his chin a little higher. his brother points a finger at kei’s chest, jabs it in once, “you know, it’s not good to skip practice. if this was during old man ukai’s times you’d be a dead man.”

kei furrows his brows, pulls them together and looks to the side. “i’ve got a headache.”

“is that so.” akiteru jabs his finger into kei’s chest again. “i’d love to hear more.”

“what…” he doesn’t like where this is going. he opens his mouth once, closes it again until he finds the proper words. “more about my headache? it’s just a headache, nii-chan.”

 “oh really.” poke. “what about this boy, what was his name.” poke. “--nishinoya?” poke. the spot he’s been hitting all this time is starting to hurt. “and the dream you had about him?” akiteru grins, smug. “sounds like there’s a lot more to be told.”

“...no.” kei boldly ignores the flush of his ears in favor of swatting his brother’s hand away. he’ll have to remember this house’s thin walls and his overly attentive brother the next time he thinks of talking about things that are none of his business. “there’s not.”

“what? come on, kei!” akiteru trails a couple steps behind kei as he heads back to his room. “i told you you could come to me with all your crushes, right? i’ll help you conquer this nishinoya’s heart!”

kei tsks again. as if his morning hadn’t been rowdy enough already. he just wants to crawl back under his blanket and sleep for one more hour before he has to get up for class. he turns, makes sure he’s making eye contact when he says, “if you even think about doing it, i swear, i’m never talking to you again.” he waits and when akiteru just sighs and shakes his head, kei huffs and shuts the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

class ends just as the bell rings, but somehow still way too early. kei hasn’t had nearly enough time to mentally prepare for club when yamaguchi skips towards his desk.

“tsukki, let’s go to practice!”

kei, still putting away his things way slower than in any way justifiable, frowns, “you sound way too happy for someone who’s about to witness his friend die a horrible death.” 

kei dreads practice. thinking about having to face nishinoya during club makes his blood run hot and his face flush. it’s embarrassing, humiliating even. he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to look at nishinoya straight-faced like he didn’t confess to him in a dream. like his mind isn’t racing with thoughts way too inappropriate for the general vicinity of school when he even so much as thinks about nishinoya in his bright orange jersey.

“you’re not gonna die,” yamaguchi huffs and puts both hands on kei’s shoulders, making him walk at a brisker pace than kei is comfortable with. “it’s just practice.”

“you know that’s not my problem,” kei says through gritted teeth. they’re getting stared at and kei makes sure to meet every pair of eyes with a glare as he plucks yamaguchi’s hands off his shoulders and finally picks up the pace to walk with him. “yamaguchi…”

“i know!” he interjects, grinning, “i won’t say a word.”

“if you do i’m telling everyone about that time in 8th grade when--”

yamaguchi claps a hand over kei’s mouth. “i won’t!!! okay! i won’t, i already said i won’t. have a little more faith in me tsukki.”

 

they’re heading up the stairs to the clubroom now and kei prays that nishinoya isn’t there. yamaguchi removes his hand from kei’s face in favor of opening the club room door. kei shuts his eyes for just a second. he’s never been one to pray, hell, he doesn’t even believe in a higher entity, but just for this one second, he prays that he doesn’t have to face nishinoya just yet.

god, as it turns out, is fake.

nishinoya is there. he’s there and he’s very much shirtless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn't think of a title for this chapter so i'm naming it after the song i'm listening to right now; [voidfish (plural)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FeFGfulFWPY&frags=pl%2Cwn)
> 
> thanks so much for reading, feel free to comment if you liked it!


	3. june

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner!" [one month of radio silence] "YEAH ABOUT THAT--"
> 
> anyways heres chapter 3; titled june even though i started writing in july and it's august now

kei stares.

he knows he’s staring, he’s almost hyper-aware of it but he just can’t seem to tear his gaze away. nishinoya, while still impressive, isn’t as build as some others in club, though he’s not as lean as kei either. kei stares at the way his back muscles shift when he moves, stares at how he has bruises scattered all over his forearms, how he even has some blue-ish green spots dotting his chest.

kei bruises easily too, what with his pale skin showing the slightest impact, but he’s never been covered with marks like nishinoya is. it’s almost like he goes out of his way to collect them. kei worries, just a bit, in the back of his mind about nishinoya’s health and stares at the bumps of his spine when he bends to get his bag.

it’s not like kei hasn’t seen nishinoya without his shirt, hell, he’s seen him pretty much naked. but it’s different when it’s just the two of them (and yamaguchi) in the club room.

it’s different when kei’s _just_ dreamt about him.

 

“yo, yamaguchi, tsukishima,” nishinoya says casually, straightening back up as he steps out of his pants. great.

 _great_.

 

yamaguchi greets him back as kei huffs and doesn’t bother giving more than a short nod before he heads past him, straight for his locker. nishinoya has bruises on his legs too, kei notices in passing, mostly around his knees (what does he even wear knee pads for?), but some as high up as his upper thighs.

kei looks away when his gaze stops at where nishinoya’s skin disappears underneath his shorts. is he blushing? his face feels hot.

 

“tsukishima, don’t ignore your senpai!” kei’s head turns away so fast at the sound of nishinoya’s voice, he swears he’s pulled a muscle. fuck. _great_. he should’ve just stayed home. he grits his teeth and turns back to give a half-assed apology, but nishinoya is already bounding towards him. “you brat!” he starts off with an insult at a volume that makes kei flinch, “skipping practice like that!! don’t you dare quit!!”

“i was feeling sick,” kei says in the most monotone voice he can muster and adjusts his glasses. nishinoya, kei sees now, hasn’t bothered getting dressed any further. his boxers are striped.

nishinoya squints his eyes at kei, pouts, like he’s trying to read kei’s mind. “you telling the truth?” he pretty much crowds kei further against his locker, to the point where kei actually feels his back hit cold iron. he swallows thickly. nishinoya couldn’t have put on pants before this?

kei glances towards yamaguchi, shoots him a look that silently asks for some assistance, _please_.

 

yamaguchi, across the room unpacking his things, pretends not to notice. that motherfucker.

 

when kei looks back down, nishinoya is still staring at him intently. “there’s no reason for me to lie about being unwell,” kei says, pretending to make eye contact by looking at nishinoya’s blond tuft of hair. he wonders, for a split second, how much product nishinoya uses to get his hair staying upright like that. “besides, would i be here now if i thought about quitting?”

nishinoya’s brows furrow. “guess not.”

“see? even someone like you can figure things out if they try.”

nishinoya smacks him, playfully, but somehow still managing to hurt. “i’m still your upperclassman, y’know?! show some respect!”

“upperclassman?” kei laughs, condescending, “you sure don’t look like it. when we first met i thought you were an elementary school kid.”

“tsukishima, you--”

 

“nishinoya!” nishinoya’s hand stops in mid air, just before it makes contact with kei’s upper arm again. sawamura stands in the doorway when kei turns to look. “don’t harass the first years.” 

“huh?! but, i wasn’t--”

“it’s true,” kei says, overly-sincere, looking mock-hurt, “just look how he’s got me pushed up against the locker.”

 

nishinoya stops protesting to look at kei, look at the locker against his back, himself, in a state of undress and so very much in kei’s personal space.

nishinoya grows red, kei doesn’t think he’s ever seen him blush before, he grows red and steps back. one step first, then a bunch at once until he’s back at his own locker and turns his back.

kei’s gaze lingers for a minute still, even as nishinoya gets dressed and leaves the clubroom. he doesn’t think he’s ever seen nishinoya as flustered as when he realized he’d pushed kei against a locker. kei thinks about nishinoya pushing him against his locker maybe a bit too hard, to the point where his glasses fog up, and closes his locker with a loud slam to join yamaguchi at the door.

 

the second they step outside, kei lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. it’s a miracle he didn’t turn beet red in front of nishinoya, a miracle he lasted until now. god. what the fuck.

yamaguchi laughs. “tsukki, nice.”

“shut up, yamaguchi.”

 

* * *

 

kei watches tanaka approach nishinoya from a little off where he’s sitting with yamaguchi, towelling off the sweat from that day’s practice.

 

“noya-san,” he says. kei hopes they don’t start yelling again; he swears he can still feel his ears ringing.

“what’s up?” nishinoya wipes his face with a towel, musses up his hair a bit, and kei would stop eavesdropping at this point, if he could physically look away. he can’t though, because nishinoya looks _good_ like this, in a way that makes kei’s nerves tingle. he doesn’t stop listening to them because he cannot stop staring at nishinoya, and--

“is it gay if i find dudes attractive?”

 

kei chokes, he almost drops his towel, but nishinoya just shrugs, “i dunno. do you find ‘em hot like objectively or hot in a wanting to get in their pants way?”

yamaguchi, bless his soul, looks worriedly over at kei trying to catch his breath, seemingly not hearing tanaka and nishinoya talk. kei himself, though, is focused entirely on the conversation happening on the other side of the gym.

“yeah, see,” tanaka raises a hand to his chin, almost looking solemn, like he’s deep in thought, “i’m not sure.”

“what? how do you not know if you wanna fuck someone or not?” kei can’t make out nishinoya’s expression, but he can see him gesturing wildly. “like, do you--”

 

there’s a loud smack from the other end of the gym and kei, although reluctantly, turns to see kageyama and hinata yelling at each other. of course. when he looks back at tanaka and nishinoya it seems like they picked back up from the momentary distraction, but he can’t make their conversation out over the screaming anymore.

 

yamaguchi, next to him, furrows his brows a little. “tsukki, i know you’re busy pining, but please realise you’re also staring a _lot_.”

“what? i’m doing neither of those things,” kei says, doing both of those things.

“don’t you think people are going to notice? i mean, you’re being very obvious.” yamaguchi looks seriously worried. “i know you, as a gay, need the unnecessary conflict, but i already saved your butt once.”

“what is that supposed to mean.” yamaguchi is right, but fuck, kei isn’t going to admit that. “everyone’s busy dealing with the idiot pair--”

 

“tsukki--”

“yamaguchi, shut up, let me finish.”

“no, tsukki, they’re coming over here.”

 

kei whips around immediately and, sure enough, tanaka and nishinoya, still engaged in a heated conversation, are heading their way. yamaguchi exchanges a glance with kei like he’s asking him why they’re coming over. fuck if kei knows.

“--i mean, dude,” nishinoya says, not realizing or not caring that he’s very much in hearing range at this point, “no shame in wanting to suck a dick or two. go for it!”

kei can’t imagine how their conversation managed to spiral out of control like this.

“i dunno if you’re gay or what,” he continues, gesturing wildly as tanaka, walking by his side listens attentively, “and i support you, bro, of course, but you can’t always expect me to help with your man problems just because i’m bi.”

 

what.

 

time seems to slow to a stop and kei can feel his mind racing to understand, even though he already did. it’s like his subconscious is trying to prove him wrong, like he’s already fully convinced himself nishinoya didn’t like guys to the point where finding out he does throws kei into a loop.

his chest feels warm.

yamaguchi, like kei, just stares for a second. out of the corners of his eyes, kei sees him mouth “oh my god”. they turn to face each other, exchanging a shocked glance and kei can see, clearly now, yamaguchi’s stunned expression turn into a grin.

“told you so, tsukki.”

 

 _oh_.

 

kei doesn’t fall in love with straight guys.

 

“oi, you two,” tanaka says and kei has to pretend he hasn’t been listening this whole time, has to pretend he’s not incredibly close to losing his absolute shit.

yamaguchi, too, looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, or the information they just got, “uh, what’s up?”

kei’s head is still spinning, he feels like he’s got whiplash from the sudden warmth in his chest, the way his heart is suddenly beating faster than he swears it ever has. he sees both tanaka and nishinoya talking, presumably explaining what kei has been overhearing, but he doesn’t hear them speak.

 

“so,” nishinoya says when kei does hear, “is it gay if tanaka thinks some dudes are attractive?”

“uh,” kei starts, and whatever sentence he tries to say stops dead in his throat and instead he blurts out, “i’m gay.”

 

“--tsukki?!” 

“um. neat,” nishinoya says.

 

kei, mentally digging a hole in which to bury himself in, is already coming up with six different ways to convince his family to move to iceland and become sheep herders. sheep herding is all the rage right now. who needs a high school education anyways, when you can have twenty-three sheep instead.

he’s eyeing his teammates, the ones further away, to make sure no one else heard, when nishinoya continues, “then, tsukishima, what’s your educated gay opinion on this?”

“my…” kei stares blankly. his _what_.

“your educated opinion as a gay,” nishinoya elaborates, like it’s the most normal thing to say. “mine, as a dude who, you know, who falls under the umbrella term gay, but isn’t like actually homosexual, is nah. ’s not gay.”

there are words coming out of nishinoya’s mouth kei never once thought he would say. at all or in that order.

“i. no, i don’t think,” kei fixes his glasses and takes a breath. he’s getting annoyed at himself at how easily he lost his composure. “it’s not necessarily gay.”

“see!” nishinoya, turning to face tanaka again, puffs his chest out, proud, “told you so!”

“it’s the same as how i can like a piece of clothing and find it appealing without being sexually attracted to it,” kei continues, slowly, to make sure he doesn’t slip and say something like how he’s not sexually attracted to clothes, but to nishinoya.

nishinoya nods, “what he said.”

tanaka looks deep in thought for a couple moments, then nods too. “makes sense. thanks for your educated gay opinion--”

“please don’t say those words in that order ever again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made a comic for this chapter, check it out on [tumblr](https://annoyingplant.tumblr.com/post/177448274824/being-an-artist-means-i-can-draw-fanart-for-my-own) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/annoyingplant/status/1034086113206525952)


	4. call me, beep me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i guess it's just normal that i update once a month now
> 
> im trying to work faster, i swear!!!! your comments and kudos help a lot and i super appreciate them <3

kei’s gym bag is unlovingly tossed into a corner of his room as yamaguchi climbs onto the swivel chair by kei’s desk and kei throws himself onto his bed.

“holy shit,” kei says.

“holy shit!” yamaguchi echoes.

 

kei wants to yell, he wants to scream about nishinoya being bi and squeal into his pillow. but he’s tsukishima kei, and tsukishima kei doesn’t do that. not while his best friend is still in the room, anyway.

though, tsukishima kei also doesn’t _accidentally_ come out to his crush. kei needs to work harder on staying on brand, apparently.

 

“neat,” kei says, staring at the ceiling, “he said neat. what does that even mean?”

“tsukki, you should ask him out.”

“are you crazy.”

“he’s bi, right? so it’s not completely hopeless! and you’ve got that twinky look--”

“yamaguchi.”

“right, too much. sorry, tsukki.”

kei’s too tall to be a twink anyway, not like he’s spent any amount of time thinking about it. he wonders if he’d be too tall for nishinoya; it is a pretty drastic height difference between them after all. kei’s like, what, twice his height? maybe not, but it sure feels like it.

 

“still though,” yamaguchi starts and kei sits up to look at him, “you _are_ unusually worked up about this.”

kei scoffs, furrows his brows, “would you not be, given my situation?”

“well,” yamaguchi sighs. he almost looks wistful, “if you’d believed me when i told you he’s just gay in a really straight way…”

“oh, shut up, yamaguchi.” kei glares at yamaguchi for a second, before his gaze shifts to his jersey hanging on the wall. he looks at the big eleven and thinks of a bright orange jersey with a four. “you didn’t believe that yourself when you said it.”

 

“you have his number, right?” akiteru says from where he’s peeking his head through the door and kei suddenly and viscerally remembers his mother telling him akiteru would be home today too. “i think you should text him.”

“no,” kei says, sitting up to try and glare his brother into leaving his room, “get out.”

“hi tadashi,” akiteru says and doesn’t leave kei’s room.

“uh, hi,” yamaguchi says back, and straightens his back a bit more, seemingly unsure how to feel about the sudden third party joining their conversation.

“oi, don’t ignore me.” kei picks a pillow off his bed, and debates throwing it at akiteru’s head. “you’re in no position to give me advice.”

“what’s that supposed to mean!” akiteru turns, sounding offended. “i’ve dated before!”

“yeah, like once.”

“still more than you.”

 

kei watches akiteru cross his arms, think for a minute, and then say, “i thought you were popular at school--”

“he is!” yamaguchi says.

“--so don’t you know how to deal with stuff like this?”

“i’m popular with _girls_. that doesn’t count,” kei says with a huff, rolling his eyes. “and they just like me because i’m tall.”

yamaguchi, often unwilling delivery man of love letters to kei, says, “they think you’re handsome too.”

“i don’t care what girls think of me.” kei’s brows furrow slightly in a way that he hopes conveys how little thought he’s ever spared for girls’ opinions on him, “i couldn’t care less.”

“you’re so lucky, little brother, and yet…”

“and yet,” kei says, loudly, “i vie for the attention of the dumbest idiot in this world.”

“it’s not vying if you’re not doing anything for it, tsukki.”

“tadashi’s right.” akiteru nods, then, looking self-satisfied, says, “so! back to my original point; you should text him!”

“no!” kei protests. he does throw the pillow now, though akiteru skillfully dodges. “what would i even say!”

“like… tell him his smile is beautiful or something, i don’t know,” yamaguchi chimes in again, making akiteru nod in agreement once more. kei may think nishinoya’s smile is the best thing he’s ever seen, but he’s not about to tell him that.

 

“he’s your upperclassman, right?” akiteru tilts his head, thins his lips as he thinks. “what about asking for help with your homework?”

“homework,” kei repeats, blankly. “ask nishinoya-san for help with my homework.”

“akiteru-san,” yamaguchi says, “you were at the shiratorizawa match, right?”

“yes?” akiteru tilts his head, brows furrowing in confusion as he glances between kei and yamaguchi who seem to be in on a joke only he’s missing out on.

“do you remember our libero, then?” yamaguchi continues nonetheless, unperturbed by the other’s puzzled glance.

“yes,” akiteru says again, less questioning this time but still as confused.

“did he seem smart to you?” it’s the finishing blow to nishinoya’s reputation.

“oh.”

yamaguchi nods.

 

“oh!” akiteru says, louder, perking up, “ _that_ ’s the nishinoya-san we’re talking about? kei, you’ve got good taste in men!”

“i absolutely do not,” kei insists, stressing the last pair of words with a furrow of his brow. “nishinoya-san is a complete idiot that i am unfortunate enough to have a crush on.”

“if he’s that much of an idiot, you should stop worrying about it and just text him,” akiteru reasons, then reaches out a hand, “here, give me your phone, i’ll do it for you.”

“no fucking way in hell--”

“language!” akiteru says with a look on his face like he’s never heard kei curse before.

“--am i letting you touch my phone ever.”

 

* * *

 

        text from: tsukishima

        > _hey_

        > _u up_

 

“ryuu.” nishinoya almost has a heart attack when his phone pings with the notification of tsukishima, _that_ tsukishima kei, texting him. “ryuu, what the _fuck_ is this.”

they’re at the tanaka estate, each a video game controller in their hand, lounging on the couch next to saeko, who’s occupied with her phone, occasionally looking up and cheering ryuu on when he’s doing exceptionally bad.

“what’s what,” ryuu says, not wanting to look away from the screen even though nishinoya has already dropped his controller in favor of staring at his phone, forfeiting the game.

nishinoya forcefully grabs ryuu by the shoulder’s and pulls him to look at his phone. “what’s _this_!”

 

it takes him a second to read the texts from their notification fields on nishinoya’s lock screen. he’s not dumb enough to unlock his phone to look at the actual messages and risk tsukishima seeing he’s read them. that’d mean he’d have to _reply_ and nishinoya just isn’t mentally prepared for that yet.

“what the fuck is this,” ryuu says after a moment, equally baffled.

“wait, i wanna see too,” saeko, clearly interested in the sudden fuss over nishinoya’s phone, sits up from where she’d been slouching and cranes her neck to get a look at the screen as well.

 

        text from: tsukishima

        > _;)_

 

“oh my god,” nishinoya says.

“has tsukishima like,” ryuu furrows his brows, grabbing the phone to stare at the messages. “has he like, ever, texted you before?”

“tsukishima?” saeko says, pursing her lips as she tries to place the name. her eyes widen for a split-second before she turns to grin at nishinoya. she whistles, smiling big and sly. “kei-kun, that tall kid you like, right? not bad.”

“how the fuck do i even reply to this? we’ve never texted before, he can’t just--,” nishinoya gestures, “--send me something like this.”

“send him a dick pic,” ryuu suggests.

“don’t do that,” saeko says.

“i’m not sending him a dick pic, that’s disgusting!!”

“say yeah, w-y-d,” saeko suggests.

“oh my god, if i don’t reply fast enough he’s never gonna text me again,” nishinoya buries his head in his hands, then, “oh my god. what if he wants to, like, _you know_.”

 

        text from: tsukishima

        > _fuck, sorry_

        > _that was my brother, i swear_

 

“oh.”

“so,” ryuu says, looking at the phone, “no _you know_ -ing then.”

saeko looks almost disappointed, but nishinoya perks up. at least he can muster up a reply to something like this.

 

        text to: tsukishima

        > _ur brother!!_

_ > the one wearing sunglasses indoors at the stzw match! _

 

“oh!” saeko says now, “akiteru-kun!”

“that’s his name?” ryuu says.

“you didn’t know?” she replies, brows furrowing slightly in confusion.

nishinoya huffs, pout forming on his lips. “we didn’t even know he _had_ a brother until he showed up to the match.”

 

        text from: tsukishima

_ >stzw? _

_ > oh, shiratorizawa _

_ > yes, the adult man wearing a bad disguise, that’s my brother _

 

“he even texts with snark,” nishinoya remarks, somehow only mildly surprised. “i feel sorry for his brother.”

“wait, bad disguise?” ryuu says, “he was wearing a disguise? i thought he just had weird fashion sense.”

“i think kei didn’t want him to come, or something,” saeko says, tilting her head. “maybe he didn’t want his brother to see him get all fired up. since he’s got that bitchy, don’t give a shit attitude.”

“shit, you’re right! i’ve never seen tsukishima as fired up as when he was going up against ushiwaka,” ryuu says, tilting his head back as he remembers.

“he was really cool then,” saeko says, then turns to look at nishinoya and adds, almost as if she felt she’d left him out, “you were too, yuu!”

 

“oh speaking of,” ryuu says, pursing his lips as he seems to think for a second. “wasn’t it right after that match when you said you liked tsukishima?”

“was it?” nishinoya laughs nervously. he remembers the match as a rush of adrenaline, watching the ball past tsukishima’s back, staring at a big eleven. he remembers hearing the smack of leather against skin as the ball hit tsukishima’s palm, and he remembers the echo of the sound of the ball hitting the court on the other side of the net.

 

text to: tsukishima

        > _i didnt even kno u had a brother!!!_

_ > u need to be more fourthcoming with the team _

 

“eeh, yuu,” saeko says, leaning in with a devilish grin on her face, “don’t tell me… you fell in love watching kei-kun be all awesome and block ushiwaka’s spike?”

“i--” nishinoya starts, ready to defend himself, but,

 

“dude,” ryuu interrupts, still intently staring at the phone, “didn’t you spell forthcoming wrong?”

“what?” nishinoya stares at the phone too, looking at his last message, then back up at ryuu, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “how do you know how to spell forthcoming?”

“don’t question it, man,” ryuu says, brows furrowed at nishinoya’s clear doubt in his spelling abilities, “i probably learnt it somewhere, whatever. i _know_ it’s not spelt like that.”

“saeko-nee-san,” nishinoya turns to saeko, who’d been watching their exchange, cheek squished against the palm of of her hand as she rests with an elbow on the armrest. “how do you spell forthcoming?”

“hah?” she says, one eyebrow rising at what she seems to deem a stupid question, “i dunno, who cares.”

 

        text from: tsukishima

        > _*forthcoming_

 

“tsukishima does, apparently.”

nishinoya sighs. “he does seem the type to correct other people’s typos.”

 

        text from: tsukishima

        > _i don’t see why i should_

_ > it’s not like any of you are _

_ > i don’t even know if you have any siblings _

 

“oi,” saeko says, intently looking at the phone over ryuu’s shoulder now , “isn’t he asking you about yourself?”

“huh?”

“he’s asking you if you have any siblings.”

“what, why would he--”

“dude,” tanaka says, loudly and over-enthusiastic, “ _dude_ , tsukishima wants to get to know you!”

 

nishinoya sputters, almost drops his phone. “no, what? no!”

“yuu,” saeko leans in way closer than necessary, then sing-songs, “that means he liiiikes you.”

nishinoya pretends like his face doesn’t burn up at the thought of that.

 

        text to: tsukishima

        > _u dont kno bc i dont have any_

_ > simple! _

 

saeko gasps as nishinoya hits send, looking incredibly offended. “how could you say that!” she puts a hand to her chest and looks him in the eye, like she’s about to say something incredibly serious, “yuu, you have me.”

 

        text from: tsukishima

        > _oh, okay_

 

“we’re not, like, actually related,” nishinoya says absently, too busy thinking about how to reply to the, all things considered, conversation-ending text.

 

        text from: tsukishima

        > _how about a bf or gf then?_

_ > ;))),,;;sdjg dkfjga oergfmc; _

 

nishinoya really, _really_ doesn’t know how to reply to his.

ryuu stares at the screen for a second, squinting at the last text from tsukishima. “what happened there.”

saeko says, “kei-kun doesn’t seem like the type to keysmash.”

 

        text to: tsukishima

        > _none_

_ > why ;) _

 

“you text all smug but your face is so red,” ryuu says and nishinoya smacks him. he already knows he’s blushing! he’s so incredibly aware of it, there’s no extra need to point it out.

 

        text from: tsukishima

        > _oh my god_

_ > sorry. my brother, again _

_ > i suppose he couldn’t tell how single you are _

 

“kei-kun, don’t be like that!” saeko tells nishinoya’s phone screen. “you didn’t have to go out of your way to tell poor yuu how single and desperate he looks.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“dude,” ryuu replies instead, setting a hand on nishinoya’s shoulder, “you’re a tiny hunk but you’re so obviously and desperately pining.”

“i can’t believe you’d say that about me.”

 

“oh my god, yuu,” saeko says, looking like she’s just had an epiphany, “yuu, why is kei-kun’s brother snatching his phone to send you suggestive texts.”

“i dunno, maybe he wants to annoy him?” nishinoya guesses with a shrug.

“exactly!” saeko grabs his wrist, her grip is tight, as she stares him intently in the eye. “and there’s only one reason an older sibling would text someone things like this on their baby brother’s behalf. i speak from experience as an older sibling, see, akiteru-kun is annoying kei-kun by taking his phone and texting _his crush_.”

 

nishinoya blinks, like his brain is processing.

 

“you!!” saeko says, slapping him on the back encouragingly with a loud smack.

“me?” nishinoya’s eyes go wide for a second in surprise. he’d never thought of it like that. then he frowns, shaking his head. “nuh-uh. i don’t buy it.” and then, uncharacteristically quiet,  “tsukishima practically _hates_ me, there’s no way he’d, you know.”

“tsukishima doesn’t hate you!” ryuu says, one hand heavily coming down on nishinoya’s shoulder. “he’s like that with everyone but yamaguchi.”

 

        text to: tsukishima

        > _ao rude!!_

_ > *so _

_ > im single bc i wanna be! _

 

“no you’re not,” ryuu says, brows raised. “you’re literally texting your dumb crush right now.”

“so?”

“like two hours ago you were gushing over how much you wanna hold his hand and kiss him.”

“...so?”

 

        text from: tsukishima

        > _do you wanna go outsometime_

_ > ? _

 

* * *

 

“yamaguchi, give my phone back before i kick you out.”

“it’s for your own good, tsukki!” yamaguchi is huddled up with akiteru, clasping kei’s phone tight in both hands. the two of them are clearly conspiring against him.

“i expected this from my brother, but from you?” kei scrunches his nose and shakes his head, sitting down at the opposite side of the table. “i go to the bathroom for two minutes and this is what happens.”

“well!” akiteru says, cheeks puffed up and lips in a pout like a child that doesn’t understand what it’s done wrong, “you weren’t ever going to ask him out yourself!”

 

kei thinks he didn’t hear right. “what’s that supposed to mean.”

 

“you’re going out together on sunday to buy him some athletic tape. he’s been running low apparently,” yamaguchi says, holding his hand out with kei’s phone in it.

“you fucking--”

“kei!! language!!”

“you did _not_ ,” kei says, snatching his phone back from yamaguchi in one quick motion just as a text from nishinoya comes in.

 

        text from: nishinoya-san

        > _ill meet u at the sttion_

_ > its a date! _


	5. patrol

kei has never considered himself someone who particularly cares about punctuality. sure, it annoys him when people show up unreasonably late and he tries, not always, hell, not even often, but he tries, to be somewhat on time. still, he doesn’t think himself to be someone who will show up early in an effort to be on time.

kei arrives an hour and seven minutes early to his kinda-date wityh nishinoya.

he doesn’t want to think of it as a date, in fact, he devotes his entire brainpower to avoiding the d-word. he stands where they had agreed to meet, hands shoved in his pockets, palms sweaty. his headphones blast music, though he can't quite make out the lyrics, too busy scanning the crowd looking for nishinoya. well, kei doubts he’d even spot him if he was actually there.

 

there’s no way he’d be there an hour and five minutes early though. nishinoya, in fact, seems the type of person to be _late_ rather than early.

kei thinks briefly of texting him and telling him he’s here already, but discards the thought after barely a moment’s consideration. he’s not _that_ desperate.

he’s jittery, just a bit; kei would never admit to being _nervous_ at the thought of spending time with his crush outside of club. he doesn’t even really spend time with any of his teammates outside of club. well, that is, aside from yamaguchi.

 

sure, sometimes he’ll let himself get talked into helping both kageyama and hinata with their studies and, sure, sometimes yachi-san joins in to help him help them (the idiot pair seem somehow more in check of themselves when she’s there), but that’s basically school work so it doesn’t count as, like, hanging out.

kei’s mind is drifting and he catches himself, checking the time to ground himself before he can go down the rabbit hole and get frustrated in post about kageyama not understanding the basic principle of a gerund.  


fifty-two minutes.  


kei sighs. he kicks a pebble and watches it land a couple feet in front.  


fifty-one minutes.  


come to think of it, yamaguchi said he’d be hanging out with hinata right about now. kei wonders for a moment what they’re doing while he’s wasting an hour of his life in a subway station. he smirks at the thought of yamaguchi absolutely wreaking havoc on hinata in smash.

yamaguchi seems to be friends with hinata; kei recalls they’d gone to the shrine for new years together, too. kei would’ve joined in as well (not for hinata but for his best friend), but he’d already promised his brother he’d go with him. kei does not feel a slight tingle of envy when he thinks of his best friend hanging out with someone else. it’s childish, so of course kei doesn’t. it’s _just_ hinata after all and, well, if yamaguchi can stand being around someone with such an incredibly low iq, that’s his problem.

not like kei’s one to talk, what with his current predicament.  


forty-seven minutes.  


kei taps his fingers against his elbow, leaning back and resting against the wall as he waits. there’s a sanrio store across from where he’s standing and his gaze stops on the pink hello kitty bow over the entrance. like they needed to make it any clearer that they own the hello kitty concept. not like there aren’t at least sixteen kitties on display, being cute and pink and eye-catching.

he shakes his head, looks away and thinks about gudetama, the obviously superior sanrio character.

his phone vibrates  


        text from: nishinoya-san

        > _here!_

 _ > r u there yet???? _  


kei checks the time just to make sure he didn’t just accidentally spend an hour staring at the sanrio display.  


thirty-one minutes.  


nishinoya-san is thirty-one minutes early.

kei’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat at the thought of nishinoya-san, the one person he thinks of when he pictures the word late, being _early_ to a meeting with kei of all people. kei, however, is a liar; so of course, he doesn’t feel warm in his chest and his cheeks don’t flush.

kei looks around for a landmark (the sanrio store) near him so he can relay his location to nishinoya, when another text comes in and cuts kei short of talking about hellos and kitties.  


        text from: nishinoya-san

        > _nvm i c u_

oh, okay. kei’s still in the process of deleting his drafted text when--

“yo, tsukishima!”

kei looks up from his phone, and not immediately finding the source of the voice, turns to find nishinoya, standing there, looking almost like he ran through the station.

nishinoya, kei also notes in the back of his mind as he looks him up and down for a second, has absolutely _shit_ fashion sense (seriously, a leopard print tee? nishinoya-san’s a couple decades late), but he somehow manages to pull it off.

 

 _thump, thump -_ goes kei’s heart as his gaze stops on nishinoya’s smile.

 

maybe he pulls of his shitty fashion because kei’s looking through rose-colored glasses.

“nishinoya-san.”

“thought i wasn’t gonna find you!” nishinoya says. “turns out you’re hard to miss.”

nishinoya laughs and kei’s heart flip flops.

“...you’re early.”

“so are you!!”

kei looks away, scrunches his nose and shrugs. “i guess.”

“i thought i was gonna be, like, super early but you’re here already!!” nishinoya exclaims his wonder loudly, seemingly uncaring for how many heads turn their direction. kei slouches a little to make himself smaller as nishinoya continues, “when’d you get here?”

kei doesn’t admit he’d been here an hour early and just shrugs again.

“i mean,” nishinoya starts, gesturing already. kei watches the movements of his hands and unconsciously straightens back up as nishinoya says, “how long did you wait!”

“not that long,” kei lies and averts his gaze.

nishinoya looks at kei, skeptical but doesn’t press any further and instead says, “wanna go?”

in place of giving a proper answer, kei starts walking, long strides that slow when nishinoya gives a short run to catch up with him.

“oi,” nishinoya says, falling into step next to kei, “slow down, beanstalk, the fuck. you don’t gotta be a show off about being tall.”

“you don’t gotta make a big deal about being short,” kei says, imitating the way nishinoya speaks, but still slows down further, “ankle-biter.”

“ _ankle_ —“ nishinoya sounds actually personally offended. “what the fuck, tsukishima.”

“you called me beanstalk first.”

“so what,” nishinoya crosses his arms, squinting at kei as they enter the sports retailer, “i guess i see the irony, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay.”

kei doesn’t reply in favor of browsing a clothes display. he looks around, soccer shoes mounted on the wall and rackets hanging from the ceiling. it smells of too much axe body spray. not like that’s different from literally any other store that sells sporting equipment. kei scrunches his nose. it smells like fake confidence and straight men. which is to say, not good.

 

“honestly though,” kei says, ignoring the way nishinoya still pouts at not getting a reply to his previous statement. “who needs a second person to come with them to buy athletic tape.”

“well!” nishinoya pouts even harder, talking big with his hands now, “since, you said you needed some too.”

“i did?”

“for your fingers?”

“my fingers.”

“you said you go through a roll of tape in like a couple days.”

 

it clicks.

 

god _fucking_ dammit, yamaguchi.

 

“sure,” kei says, making a mental note to give his friend hell for this later and also change his phone passcode. “i definitely do go through a roll of tape in a couple days.” he shows his fingers, still taped from the last practice, as if to be extra convincing.

“i don’t think i could tape my fingers if i needed to,” nishinoya says, looking at his palm and wiggling his fingers.

kei looks at nishinoya‘s palm as well.

“it’s like,” he says, oblivious to kei staring, “you know, i think my palm is like five centimeters in width.”

“it’s a preference thing, right.” kei says, “kageyama’s like that too. something about not directly touching the ball.”

“yeah!!” nishinoya nods, almost over enthusiastic.

“though, it’s not like you need to tape, as a libero.”

“i guess, but— ah!! tsukishima, look!” kei barely has a moment’s time to marvel at how easily nishinoya is distracted before he snatches something off the shelf, presenting it in an almost proud fashion to kei.

 

“look,” nishinoya’s enthusiastically showing off a box of animal patterned bandaids for kids. the package shows a blue bandaid with a giraffe among a variety of other cartoon animals. they’re cute, kei supposes, though maybe not quite cute enough to warrant nishinoya’s excitement.

kei looks from the box to nishinoya and back. “do you have the brain of an elementary schooler too?”

“it’s you,” nishinoya states, pointing at the giraffe.

“don’t.”

nishinoya grins, self satisfied in a way that makes kei almost want to forgive him.

“i swear to god, i’m going to go home if you keep comparing me to tall animals.”

nishinoya pouts. “you say that like i’ve done it more than once.”

 

kei gives him a look, then points at a display of toddler clothes and says, voice as monotone and expression as unfaltering as he can manage, “look, they’re you-sized.”

“oh.” nishinoya looks to the clothes, to kei and down at the box he’s still holding. he sighs and, after a moment’s consideration puts the bandaids back. “...i understand now,” nishinoya says solemnly with a nod, instead heading towards the volleyball section of the store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in an alternate dimension they got kicked out of the sanrio store bc kei called hello kitty a capitalist whore and that's why this chapter took so much longer to get finished
> 
> the giraffe conversation is based on a real life experience in which i am nishinoya
> 
> i don't know how athletic tape works, thanks for reading

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr](https://annoyingplant.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/annoyingplant) for completely unrelated art


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